


Summer Wars

by Aetherands



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Alternate Universe - High School, Canon-Typical Violence, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hybrids exist don't question it, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, No beta we die full stop, No shipping, Not really RPF but whatever L, Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Psychological Trauma, TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, im dyslexic so be patient lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28541019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aetherands/pseuds/Aetherands
Summary: White rapids was one of the weirder towns Tommy's status as a foster kid had taken him to.His new family was fine, better than most, and his new friends were great. But the two of them being in some knock off gang war isn't exactly easy to deal with.-(Aka a highschool retelling of the DSMP and I also project a bit lol)(I have this whole AU mapped out in a google doc I think I'm losing my mind)
Relationships: ALL PLATONIC, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 71





	Summer Wars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy hates his science teacher and Wilbur has an unpog moment lul

Whoever decided to make planners were a plague on this earth. That was clear as Tommy Watson sat at his desk, dreading the conversation he was about to be having with his science teacher. He’d written in his planner like he was supposed to, wasn’t his fault he forgot to check it. He’d never even taken it out of his school bag, but Mrs. Angster didn’t care.

Even as she stood at the activboard, desperately trying to get the pen to sync back up with the cheap technology, Tommy could feel her hatred for him. And he didn’t mind. The feeling was mutual. But at the moment it was as though her brown eyes were staring at him through the back of her head. Not a feeling anyone would really enjoy.

He tucked his head into his arms, trying to pretend he’d fallen asleep in order to avoid her non-existent gaze. Her loud-speaking vibrated throughout his head, rambling on about some nonsense related to her weekend plans.

“Who gives a shit?” He spat bitterly under his breath, immediately regretting that he’d said it out loud. His shoulders tensed painfully while he waited to be lectured, but she only continued talking. God had graced him, or something.

Other’s voices began to pop up, adding their own stories for Tommy to drown out. This was science class, why the hell did she want to know what he was going to do this weekend? Wasn’t like he could be honest anyway, and she sure as hell knew that.

“Are you even awake, Thomas?” Her high pitched voice cut through his thoughts and he was met with a sickeningly sweet smile when he sat up. Her eyes were glazed with hostility and a sudden desire to claw them out began to crawl in his head. 

“It’s Tommy.” He said. It was the only thing he could be bothered to respond with, even as she obviously waited for him to add more. She kept staring at him with that smile, the room growing more uncomfortable as more silence passed. “I’m hanging out with friends later.” He finally grumbled, voice weaker than he would like it.

Angster clapped her hands together and turned away from him to face the entire class. “Great! Everyone’s dismissed.” 

Before Tommy could even reach for his bag a hand fell onto his shoulder. “Except for you, we need to talk.”

And there it was.

All sense of fake sweetness was gone from her as the others began to file out the room and he couldn’t help but feel sick at the dread filling his stomach. 

“Do you know how many assignments you’re missing?” She said, and the grip on his shoulder got a little bit tighter. 

Tommy nodded, although not daring to look her in the eyes. He may have not cared about what she thought of him, but her stare of disappointment was all too similar to one he knew too well. 

“I’m going to need to call your parents, Tommy.” He immediately tensed at this, every bone in his body telling him to run. “You haven’t turned in a single project on time this year.” 

“P-please don’t. And it’s parent, singular.” He stuttered out in response, still not able to make eye contact.

Her intimidating demeanor melted away, embarrassment suddenly taking its place, “Oh, that’s my bad!” She laughed a bit awkwardly trying to lighten the mood. He really just wanted her to shut up though. “I’ll have to call your parent.”

Tommy looked up for the first time since they’d been left alone together, panicked eyes both meeting each other. “Please, please don’t. I’ll do anything.”

Angster tilted her head slightly, “Is something wrong at home?”

“No!” He quickly called back in response, “No… it’s just… please.” 

“Then I have no choice. I’ll have to call them.” She said as she walked back over to her desk, back to the phone that laid beside it.

The blonde didn’t seem to process her actions for a minute or two, only able to watch her as she typed in his dad’s number. It was deafening, the silence of nothing but the two of them and them as she called. It came in waves, the ringtone from the loud phone occasionally breaking it.

Luckily the call went through without an answer, and Tommy’s shoulders relaxed slightly. He stood up, grabbed his bag and began to pack his things inside when she called another number. 

“What are you doing?” He asked weakly, a faint panic beginning to tighten around his throat. 

“Trying the other number.”

Anxiety and anger gripped his entire body, running over him like a crashing wave. Before Tommy knew what he was doing the words were out of his mouth. “Fuck you.”

She snapped around to face him faster than he’d ever seen, a mix of both shock and anger on her face. 

His fight or flight kicked in, sending him out the classroom doors and crashing through the west wing’s exit.

—

Tommy kicked at the loose bits of concrete in the road and leaned against the bridge’s barriers. It felt like it’d give out under his weight, but his numerous times being on this bridge told him otherwise. He could bang and kick all he wanted and it would do nothing. Cars hadn’t been there in years, but it still held weight well. If he stayed in that spot for too long he’d definitely be caught, but he couldn’t exactly escape to Tubbo’s house. Too close to his own for comfort.

He pulled out his phone when he felt it vibrate, a sudden load of angry texts from his foster brother, Wilbur, taking over his notifications. They almost came impossibly fast, each demanding he come home or that he was in trouble. He simply muted the man’s texts and scrolled through his contacts to look for someone to crash in on. 

The first one he landed on was ‘Green Pussy’. An affectionate name for his upper-class man, Dream. They were close enough, especially considering Tommy was only a freshman. They’d hung out quite a few times after he’d snuck his way into one of the Dream Team’s parties, a thing he wasn’t so sure how he’d done himself. But he’d been there, and god was he thankful for it right now. He quickly clicked on the call button and found it only took a few rings before he was answered.

“Hey, Toms!” Dream’s voice was as calming and soothing as ever, albeit a bit loud. In the background, he could hear laughing and yelling between two others.

“Shit, did I catch you at a bad time?” He bit his lip, waiting for a response, shifting on his feet so he could be prepared to run if need be. 

Dream laughed a little, “Nah, it’s just Sapnap and George. You need something?”

Tommy swallowed, trying to keep the words from catching in his throat, “Yeah actually. Sorry if this is too much, but I’m kind of in deep shit right now. Can I hide at yours for a few hours?”

The line was silent for a few seconds and Tommy could feel his heart stop, the thought of Dream hanging up on him crossing his mind quickly. But the silence was broken away by a tone of concern, “Yeah, yeah of course. Do you need me to pick you up?”

Tommy sighed in relief, a genuine smile crossing his face. “I’m at the bridge right now, depends on how far your house is.”

“I’ll just come and get you then. See you in a few minutes.” And with that the line clicked, signaling it’d gone dead. 

The area was quiet again, minus the never-ending sounds of the water rushing underneath him. Wilbur was still spamming him, but he’d rather get shot in the head than face him right now, especially knowing how irrational he was during his early stages of anger. The idea of his yelling ebbed away at Tommy’s heart and made him sick to his stomach. He knew Wilbur didn’t mean any of the shit he said, he was just worried, but he couldn’t help but think of the houses he’d been fostered in before. And even if his new family did love him, it didn’t really feel like it all the time. A facetime call pulled him away from his thoughts, only to be greeted by Wilbur’s contact: Bitch Foster.

He shoved the phone deep into his hoodie pocket and ignored it, not even bothering to decline the call. The ringing it produced at least gave a little life to the dead place, even if it was incredibly annoying.

Tommy really wanted to throw his backpack over the edge of the bridge at the moment. The idea of watching the papers wash away and seeing the bitchy look on Angster’s face when he’d tell her what happened was so painfully tempting, but the lecture from Phil definitely wasn’t. Phil was probably the nicest person he’d ever been fostered by, but that only made his meltdowns scarier. He wouldn’t be surprised if Phil sent him back to the group home during one of them, only to come pick him up later and never mention it again. Some part of him wished that would happen, he’d been with the Watsons for three months now, he just wanted to get the inevitable over with already. But they were surprisingly good at dealing with his bullshit, and another part of him doubted he’d ever get out.

A car made him look up, the sound of rough tires on loose gravel was kind of ear bleeding. Dream waved through the driver’s seat window, signaling brightly for Tommy to get in. He pushed himself off the wall and flung his backpack over his shoulder, mood finally relaxing as he met the green eyes. 

He climbed into the car and slammed the door behind him as he sat. Dream was smiling, the medical mask covering his mouth contorted with the expression. “So what’d you do this time?” He asked, his tone light-hearted and soft.

Tommy sighed and crossed his arms, “I told that dumbass teacher to go fuck herself cause she was being an ass and now Wilbur won’t shut the fuck up.”

Dream laughed as he reversed the car, gravel still crunching underneath the wheels. “That was dumb, but ballsy, so I congratulate you. Does Wilbur know where you are?”

Guilt suddenly washed over him. He really didn’t want to worry Phil or the other two, but again the thought of facing Wilbur right now was worse than anything in the world. The idiot meant well, but fuck, he could be mean and he could be loud. Tommy swore that Wilbur could be louder than the waterfall beneath the bridge he’d just left, he’d even bet money on it. “No. I don’ want to deal with him right now.”

“Alright, as long as we don’t get in trouble for hiding you.” His tone was light again, but it only struck more guilt into the teenager. He only huffed in response and turned his head to look out the window, watching as the town rolled by. 

White Rapids was one of the weirder towns his status as a foster kid had led him to. It was decently sized with a population of around 50,000, but still one of those places you’d never heard of till you’d been there. Like a strangely well-developed blip on a road trip. But this was a blip on the west coast of Florida, probably not a place many went for road trips. Yet the weirdest thing about it was the knock-off mafia ruling it, run by the very same man currently driving him back to his house. 

How things like this formed Tommy never understood, but the fights and the drugs and the money made it’s existence all too evident. They were only a bunch of high schoolers going delusional from the almost-summer-heat, yet somehow they’d managed to turn a joke into a very real thing with very real consequences. And God, Tommy reveled in it.

For as much as he wanted to leave the Watsons and get the foster routine back on the road, the thought of leaving the Dream Team made him sick. They treated him like an adult, with respect instead of impatience and pity. Plus, having the opportunity to be responsible for stuff that actually meant something, had an effect on real people, was one of the best feelings Tommy had ever experienced. 

He absent mindedly smiled and the stress from earlier continued to melt away.

-

“We’re back!” Dream called, his voice ringing throughout his house as he dropped his keys in the bowl next to the front door. Tommy had been over there a few times, but it was way more intimidating when he was actually paying attention. It looked like the definition of upper-middle-class and white. The walls were painted with an old yellow that contrasted horribly with the blinding white of the spiral stairs leading to the upper floor and which was coated with fake wood. It reminded him of some of the better-off families he’d been placed with, which certainly didn’t ease his anxiety. 

Dream tossed his shoes by the front door and headed to walk up to the top, waving his hand behind him to motion for Tommy to follow. There was no sign of life anywhere in the house besides the loud yelling coming from one of the rooms upstairs, which was slightly off-putting but made sense anyway. From what he could tell, Dream’s parents were hardly ever home. 

“Like I said earlier, Sapnap and George are here. We were studying when you called.” He said, now leading him down the hallway past the stairs.

“Fuck, sorry.” Tommy muttered in response although his mind was preoccupied with the pictures lining the walls. Dream was wearing his mask in every one without fail, from childhood to his teens alike. He wouldn’t doubt it at this point if it was just super glued onto his face.

The masked man flung the door at the end of the hall open revealing two teenagers wrestling for something caught between them. Although it looked like only one of them was actually engaged in it.

“Dream! Tell George to give me the switch!” Sapnap whined. He was curled around the beanbag George was sitting on like a snake, but the brunette only continued to push him away and do whatever he was doing with one hand. The poor teen’s brows were knit in frustration and his mouth was curled into a frown. Dream walked into the room and sat in his desk chair, leaving Tommy to find a spot on the floor.

Dream’s room also looked like the definition of white upper-middle class. The walls were painted a desaturated blue that bordered on gray and the floor was an ugly hue of yellow carpet that stretched throughout the second floor. He couldn’t tell if it was just old or dirty, but it sure as hell was something. His bed was surprisingly made, a striped comforter pulled over it and all. But what really caught Tommy’s eye was the computer sat on his desk. He didn’t know much about computers, but jesus christ, that one looked expensive. Two big monitors were slammed next to each other only overshadowed by the case next to them. It was tall and wide, RGB lights flashing on and off in a random pattern. It was hard not to laugh, but Dream did seem the type to own stuff like it.

“He’s been playing that stupid rolly Japanese game since you left, he’s being an ass!” Sapnap continued to complain.

“It’s called Katamari Damacy and it is a classic.” George cut back, “And it’s still my turn, go scroll through tinder or something dumbass.”

Sapnap's face fell and he suddenly gave up in his quest to get the nintendo. He laid flat on his back, legs still wrapped around the beanbag. “I got banned from Tinder cause apparently 17 isn’t close enough to 18.” 

Dream wheezed, not bothering to hide how funny he found the fact. “I told you! You’re still a child!”

“You’re only a year older than me!” He yelled back.

“I’m not banned off of tinder.” Tommy cut in with a shit-eating grin spread across his face. Dream turned to face him, giving him a look mixed with concern and confusion. George briefly looked up to scowl at him, and Sapnap still laid on the ground in defeat. “Just use fake pictures and you can do anything on there, I have scammed multiple people.”

“You’re fifteen, that’s just a recipe for disaster.” George spoke, light-hearted exasperation filling his voice. 

“Tell that to the extra 200$ in my paypal, pussy,” Tommy retorted and pulled out his phone to find the app Phil installed on it a little while ago. Why he had decided to give a child he hadn’t even officially adopted a bank account was beyond him, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. He scooted over a bit and shoved the screen in George’s face, knocking the switch out of his hands. 

George’s annoyed stare quickly turned amused and a smirk crossed his features. “Looks like someone's in trouble, Tommy.” Before he could look to see what the guy was talking about, the phone was snatched out of his hands by a third party. He could now hear the ping of texts playing out over and over again, bouncing off the walls of the room.

“How fast can this guy type?!” Sapnap asked, no longer sulking and instead staring at the phone- _his_ phone like it was some alien creature. “And what the hell did you do?!”

Tommy’s shoulders dropped and annoyance began to crawl up his spine. “I told my stupid science teacher to go fuck herself and she called my house.” 

Sapnap rolled over to look at him, “Who's your science teacher? Is it Angster? She’s the fucking worst.”

“I know she is! I don’t think she even read my student file, dumbass didn’t know I only have a guardian and most teachers go out of their way to get students to pity the ‘poor foster kid.’” He spat out, not able to keep the sourness out of his tone. 

The dark-haired man rolled his eyes and huffed. “She refused to acknowledge Dream’s 5o4 until his parents threatened to sue, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“I hate her so much,” Tommy groaned and flopped over, much like the other boy had only a few minutes ago. “I can’t believe she’s only 34 or whatever, she has to be a 200-year-old witch in disguise.”

Dream laughed again, although it sounded more forced than usual. “Come on, she wasn’t that bad! She clearly wanted to go into math instead of science, I don’t blame her for being so grumpy all the time.”

“She literally had favorites!” Sapnap yelled, flinging his hands up in the air to exaggerate his point. “And she didn’t even try to accommodate you when it’s legally fucking required! I could be a better teacher than her.” He finished, although his little speech only earned a snort from George, who was still sucked into the game he was playing. Sapnap scoffed and knocked the nintendo from his hands. “I can’t believe you’re playing that weeb shit.”

“What?! You’re the one that watches anime!” He shot up, voice suddenly very loud from his normal monotone. 

“Then why are you the one playing weeb shit?!”

“Because it’s a good game!” George quickly grabbed the console before the other could and shook it off before turning it on again, “You know what? You’re being racist.”

It was Sapnap’s turn to shoot up now, face twisted in confused anger. “How is that racist?!” 

“Because I say so.” 

Sapnap geared up to say something more, but Dream’s wheezing cut them both off. He clutched his stomach hard, bent over in his chair. Tommy couldn’t help but laugh too, filling the room with both of their noise.

It stayed like that until Sapnap spoke again, somehow the one to maintain his composure this time around. “Very funny, haha, but I think Wilbur is going to have a heart attack if you don’t respond to him.”

Tommy stopped mood once again quickly ruined by the mention of his so-called brother. Sapnap tossed the phone back into his hands, and he unlocked it to find the message app open to Wilbur’s contact. 

There were so many texts. So. Fucking. Many. If you scrolled from the top to the bottom you could practically see the five stages of grief in action. “Tommy you better have a good explanation” followed by “I’m going to kill you if you get back here” only a few minutes later, only to be flopped on “I won’t tell Phil if you at least tell me where you are” and then “Please I’m worried about you” and most recently “I know you hate Mrs. Angster but you need to tell me where you are”

He squeezed the phone in his hand, both embarrassment and anger filling his head. He didn’t want to be the kind of asshole to cause panic attacks, and it wasn’t looking like that was going so well with the messages laid in front of him. So he quickly typed out a one-word response and shoved the phone in his back pocket. 

“Wilbur is so weird. Has he always been like this?” The question hung heavy in the air and each of the other three looked to be experiencing an array of different emotions. 

“Can’t say, the guy has hated us for years, I dunno what his problem is.” George responded casually but the words sent a wave of panic over him.

“Well, this is not going to go over well then.” And as if on cue, his phone began to blow up again. The thing practically vibrated it’s way out of his pocket before he could reach it, and even then it was difficult to read anything. The messages came in one after another and each made Tommy a little bit sicker. 

Dream pushed his hand against the wall to propel himself closer to the teen sitting on the ground. “What’s he saying?”

“He seems to think you’re going to drug me.” He muttered, tone half amused and half annoyed. 

Sapnap laughed, “What the hell?!”

He shrugged and began to read in response, “And I quote, ‘Why are you at Dream’s?’ ‘Are you sober?’ ‘Did he give something to you?’ ‘You need to come home right now.’”

Sapnap stood and walked over to join the other two staring at the screen, joints cracking with the action. “He’s fucking delusional, holy shit.” He laughed harder this time, as though he thought this was all a prank.

The texts continued to get more and more anxious, and guilt crept up inside him a little bit. If you weren’t paying attention Wilbur’s texts would probably read out like he was getting murdered.

_WHY AREN’T YOU RESPONDING?_

_ARE YOU OK?_

_DID HE HURT YOU?_

The two men behind him were laughing but it only sounded like white noise in Tommy’s head.

_I’M COMING TO GET YOU_

_IF HE DID SOMETHING I AM GOING TO GET TECHNO TO BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF HIM_

His heart sank completely but the laughing only got louder. 

“Does he even know where your house is?!” 

“Who fucking knows!”

Tommy shielded his phone while they were distracted, hiding his shaking fingers as he typed.

_I’m ok._

Another thing that he forgot to take into consideration, Wilbur was really good at guilt-tripping. Again, not a thing he did intentionally, but Tommy knew manipulation when he saw it. 

A loud crash sent him out of his thoughts only to find Sapnap rolling on the floor behind him.

“Why would we be drunk at 4 PM?!” He was wiping away tears at his waterline and his lungs were trying so desperately to get oxygen that the sound hurt to hear. “Does he actually think that low of us?”

“I guess so.” Tommy muttered hands clenched tightly around the phone in his grip. The texts had slowed down now from a monsoon to a small drizzle. Wilbur was probably getting into his car or whatever.

“I knew he hated me, but that’s a bit much.” Dream said, his laughing calming down too. 

“To be fair, you do sell drugs with your friends.” Tommy pointed out and a small grin returned to his face. 

Dream struggled to respond, words coming out in mess while Sapnap laughed harder than he had ever heard him.”I- we don’t sell drugs. We’re just keeping track of the leftover ones from Team Crafted.”

“Don’t sugarcoat it, we just profit off their rotting corpse.” George piped up, amusement evident in his tone. At some point he’d moved off the bean bag and over to sit on Dream’s desk, although Tommy hadn’t noticed. The masked man turned quickly to face him, words sputtering as he stared. 

“We are not drug dealers! Stop making us out to be some kind of gang!”

George snorted again, crossing his arms together, “I promise you’re the only one who’s still in denial about this.” 

“We are high schoolers in a random town in Florida, how in the hell are we a gang?” He yelled, his voice completely exasperated.

Sapnap took a pause from his death to mock him, “I dunno, maybe the drug scheme?”

“Yeah because I’m trying to get people to stop wanting to buy!” 

George got up from the desk and moved over to the other’s position, smiling and laughing as he walked. “Denial, Dream.” He patted his taller friend on the shoulder, who seemed to be lost for words. Tommy had almost forgotten about his approaching demise as he laughed at the dumbfounded teen, but alas, fate is cruel and he’s never had the best luck. 

A very, very, loud banging twists it’s way up the stairs and faintly through the door, making Tommy flinch when he hears it. A door slam open and Dream is suddenly alert again, shoulder tensed and eyes staring intently at hi closed doorway. Angry footsteps are crashing up the stairs and for a brief second Tommy considers jumping out of the window and bolting, but that would certainly lead to a broken leg. Dream moved to shield Tommy from whatever was about to open that door, only leaving a sliver open for him to see. 

Unsurprisingly, it's Wilbur. The door opens with a slam, revealing the lanky boy. He looks almost the same as he always does, curly brown hair covering one eye and worn-out yellow sweater clashing against his red beanie. His expression is contorted in some mix of annoyance and fear, his eyes boring down into Dream’s. Tommy can only watch the sight from his position behind Dream’s legs on the ground as his body freezes with each attempt he make to stand up. 

God, why couldn't he just remember to do his homework?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl this was made to shit on my science teacher  
> holy fuck she is such an asshole I hate her oh my god like an unreasonable amount her voice makes me enraged god I hate her
> 
> anyways do you guys want more tommy interacting with the others or do you wanna go straight to plot? cause I could do either
> 
> also this is probably just me but I always get super nervous to check comments cause I'm afraid people are gonna be like mean or something? social anxiety do be not pog


End file.
